


Exiled Wolf

by VVSIGNOFTHECROSS



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-14
Updated: 2015-02-25
Packaged: 2018-03-07 14:33:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 22,338
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3176148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VVSIGNOFTHECROSS/pseuds/VVSIGNOFTHECROSS
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Edric Stark was exiled for supporting the wrong dragon during the Blackfyre, he and his descendants though have always viewed Winterfell as rightfully theirs. this is a story how one of those descendants Cregard Stark goes about reclaiming his birthright during the war of the Five Kings</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_All in the Seven Kingdoms know the tale of Daemon Blackfyre and the first Blackfyre rebellion and the woe and destruction that would come from that for generations. What most, even those inside of the north have forgotten is the tale of Edric Stark and his children. Edric Stark was the second son of Lord Cregan Stark known as the Old Man of the North and his third and final wife Lynara Stark. To shore up claims of both himself and his older brother Jonnel Cregan wed them to his own granddaughters Serena for Edric and Sansa for Jonnel. And whilst Jonnel and Sansa had no issue, Edric and Serena did, four children by the names of Cregard and Torrhen whom were twins, and daughters Aregelle and Arrana. Now both Edric and Serena coveted the position of Lord and Lady of Winterfell and the powers that would come from it and so when Daemon Blackfyre rebelled, Edric declared for the black dragon and allying with the Boltons, Hornwoods and Karstarks began causing havoc for his brother Jonnel._

_The war in the north known was the war of the wolves lasted for nearly a year and ended with Jonnel Stark’s victory and Edric being captured and betrayed by Lord Royce Bolton. Torn over what to do with his brother Jonnel decided the safest thing would be to ensure that Edric and his descendants never threatened the peace again and therefore they were exiled to Westeros boarding a ship to Essos with their children and their children’s spouses they boarded a ship and never returned. Jonnel died a year later and when their brother Barthogan became Lord of Winterfell and wed Sansa, Edric and Serena both fumed and swore that they would return to claim what they saw as rightfully theirs._

_The couple had lost their eldest son Cregard during the rebellion, and so it was Edric and his remaining son Torrhen as well as his goodsons Osric Umber and Robard Cerwyn who set out to find work when they landed in Braavos. They spent some time working for the Sealord of Braavos as part of his guard with Torrhen even serving for a time as the First sword of Braavos. But eventually for one reason or another they were run out of Braavos and ended up travelling through the deserts of Essos for another year before coming to Myr where the Company of the Rose, that sellsword company founded by northmen and women who refused to bend the knee to Aegon the Conqueror were based. It was a Stark who held the position of Lord Commander then, and it was this Stark who welcomed his kin to the fold. Edric was soon serving as Lord Commander of the Rose, and led them in many a great war during his time as captain earning his stripes, fighting in the Disputed Lands and for the Blackfyres. He died in Myr in 220 A.C. from old age, his son Torrhen was named Lord Commander by lot and continued his father’s good work._

_Torrhen Stark led the company of the rose in five wars in the Disputed lands coming into contact with Aegor Rivers the captain general of the golden company in two of these occasions. It was this last occasion that saw an unbreakable pact signed, the company of the rose would aid the company in putting a Blackfyre on the throne, and in return the members of the Rose and Torrhen and his family would be given Winterfell in return. Alas Torrhen never got to see that agreement put to the test for he died of his wounds from his last war in the disputed lands. His son Cregard took the command and upheld his father’s agreement fighting alongside the Peakes in their rebellion, being the one to kill Maekar Targaryen himself, as well as fighting in the fourth Blackfyre rebellion and slaying many notable Westerosi commanders including Artos the Implacable. It would be under Cregard that the position of Lord Commander became hereditary where before it had been chosen by vote, the Company of the Rose had with time become fanatically loyal to Edric Stark and his descendants and all did as they were asked no matter what. It was also under Cregard Stark that the saying ‘Our Word Is Our Bond’ became the saying of the Company._

_After Cregard’s death in 250 A.C. fighting for Lord Peake in his uprising against Aegon the Unlikely. His son Torrhen became Lord Commander of the Company of the Rose. Torrhen soon became known as Torrhen the Terror for his habit of leaving any place where the company was fighting a smoking ruin and because of his angry temperament. Torrhen fought in many wars in Essos as Westeros began to know peace though he too lived up the deal his forbearer had struck and fought alongside Maelys the Monstrous at the Stepstones slaying Edwyle Stark before fleeing and retreating. He died the following year in Myr of a pox caught from a male whore. His brother Bennard the Amicable came to the position and saw the company’s headquarters turned into a castle and a proper living estate. The rulers of Myr had done them homage since the time of Cregard Stark, but now Lys too paid them a price to aid them in their wars with Tyrosh. Bennard Stark died fighting in Tyrosh in 269 A.C., his son Cregan the Cruel came to the position of Lord Commander that year._

_Cregan the Cruel became known for torturing his prisoners and flaying them, no doubt under the influence of one or two of the Bolton members of his company. He chose to ignore the rebellion and instead took the company to fight in a war in the Stepstones where he died a grizzly death, his son Brandon took charge that year. Brandon Stark began consolidating the finances of the company of the Rose and began buying out the magisters of Myr establishing his brother Benjen as the Prince of Myr before his death in 296._

_I, his son Cregard Stark born on the fourth day of the fifth Month of the 279 th year since the Dragons came took charge following my father’s death in that year. It has been a long hard struggle for me and my family and our company, but we will return to Westeros and to Winterfell and claim what is ours. Even now as I write this, war engulfs Westeros and the pretender sitting in my home has died as have his siblings. Soon our chance will come._


	2. Howl

**5 th  Month of 300 A.C. Myr**

**Lord Commander Cregard Stark**

Myr as always was hot, even though the snows were beginning to fall, it was still boiling hot. That was something Cregard had grown to appreciate about the place his uncle now called home. He had thought beside both his father and his uncle and the company when they had sacked and taken Myr, for many years it had served as the base of the company of the rose, but the magisters had become very greedy charging them tax to keep their base, and as sellswords this was untenable, and therefore they had decided to remove the magisters and install uncle Benjen as the ruling prince. A move that had been received surprisingly well and the city was now prospering with trade and other such things.

Of course Cregard was not here for pleasure, no he had returned to his uncle’s home for one express purpose. And that was to negotiate terms with the man sitting in front of him. Aegon Targaryen if that was whom he really was, was tall and muscular with the silver hair and violet eyes common to his people. He was also a smart and charming lad, something that could not be said for his companions the ever dour Jon Connington whom Cregard had met once before, and Harry Strickland whom Cregard had met many times before. Cregard spoke first. “So what do you propose as part of our alliance then?”

“I say that if you fight for me then I will give you and your men that with which you have sought after for generations.” The man says. “Fight for me and I will give you Winterfell.”

“And how do you propose to do that? Will we fight for you in the south whilst the north bleeds under Stannis Baratheon and Roose Bolton?” Cregard asks.

“No I was more under the impression that you would like to fight in the north and earn the respect of the northmen you would rule. Unless you think there is so much chaos in the south that you might benefit more from it.” Aegon says.

Impressed Cregard pauses for a moment and then asks. “So whilst we are fighting in the north, what would you be doing?”

“Well, whilst I would have liked for my aunt to be here and part of these discussions she is too busy playing slave master in Meeren, a title she is welcome to. I shall invade southern Westeros, in a place so weakly defended it will be far easier to gain than the north. I speak of course of the Stormlands.” Aegon says.

“A sound plan my prince, winning the Stormlords over to your cause and righting the wrongs the Baratheons did to your family many years ago. But tell me what will make you a different king to your predecessors? After all it was your own ancestor who consented to exiling mine own kin.” Cregard asks.

Aegon is silent for a moment before he says. “There were great men and mad men amongst the Targaryen Kings and ordinary men as well. I intend to be a great man and king, and for that I need great men around me. The Starks who rule Winterfell were fools to go against their rightful king, but you, you and yours have learnt the lessons of life and will not make that mistake. Besides Winterfell is just calling out for a strong leader now.”

Cregard nods. “A wise explanation my prince. But I find myself curious. What will you do should your aunt coming to Westeros with her dragons and her own armies and ask for the throne?” he pauses and then asks. “Will you kindly explain to her that you are her elder and better and therefore she should do you obedience, or will you have the guts to meet her in the heat of battle with steel and fire?”

A moment’s silence and then Aegon says. “I will do whatever is necessary to secure my throne and I will crush all those who get in my way.”

“Good.” Cregard says. “For that is what a king must be.” He is silent for a moment and then turns to look at Aurane Waters a man he knows somewhat. “Waters, I had not thought to find you here at this meeting. Last  I had heard you were ruling a pirate kingdom in the Stepstones.”

Waters shrugs and says. “I grew bored of ruling over pirates, unruly bunch that lot. Instead I have come to throw my lot behind the rightful King. 20 war Drummonds ready for battle and a host of pirates and sellsails ready to sail at my command.”

Cregard looks at the Prince and sees him eyeing up Waters his voice is hesitant when he asks. “And what would you wish in return Ser Aurane?”

Waters gives his most winning smile and says. “I merely wish to serve you as my father served your father. I would also like the chance to remove the evil ruling my nephew at the Driftmark and raise him to be a true Velaryon.”

“A decent enough request,” the prince says. “But a man who would so easily flee the establishment he once worked for to come to a new one is someone who will have questions over his loyalty for some time. Tell me what information do you bring with you?”

There is silence for a moment and then Aurane says. “Cersei Lannister has been put to trial by combat to see whether or not she is guilty of her crimes. The faith holds Margery Tyrell prisoner accused of her crimes though her marriage to Tommem Baratheon has been annulled without being consummated. The Reach is also dealing with Ironborn raiding led by Euron Greyjoy, the shield islands have fallen and it does seem as though Greyjoy means either to sail up the Mander or go for Oldtown.”

They all take this in and Cregard asks. “And what news do you bring of the north?”

Waters smiles at him and says. “Stannis Baratheon and Roose Bolton are at a loggerheads now. Winterfell sees Bolton losing support daily, the Wolfswood sees Stannis Baratheon and his men dying from winter.”

Cregard nods and then Prince Aegon speaks once more. “This is all well and good. Now though the situation between the Lannisters and the Tyrells is very weak. Will Tyrell support us if we were to send envoys out?”

Jon Connington who has remained quiet before now speaks softly. “I do not know my prince. If his daughter was still wed to the false king I would say no, but now, now with the Ironborn still causing trouble I would say that he might just allow it. Though of course with her still being in the custody of the faith who knows.”

“Perhaps it would be best to wait and see. Take the Stormlands make a point and see whether the Tyrells move from King’s Landing or not. If they do then you have your answer.” Cregard says.

“Now enough of this talk. I shall retire and I suggest you all do the same. We will have a long day ahead of us.” Prince Aegon says.

Taking that as his cue, Cregard stands and gets to bended knee as does Aurane Waters and they both say. “I do hereby swear my loyalty and fealty to you Aegon Targaryen sixth of your name, rightful King of Westeros. I do swear to do all in my power to see you sit on the Iron Throne.”

“And I as King promise to do right by you and to ensure you never have doubt about my trust in you.” The king says. Before he departs.

Once the others have left it is just Cregard and his uncle left. “What did you make of him uncle?” Cregard asks.

“He could be a good king, but he is still too green and eager to change that. Someone will need to guide him through this campaign and I am not sure Connington is the man to do that. The man is clearly still in love with a ghost.” His uncle says.

“What do you suggest then uncle?” Cregard asks.

“Get close to this King and see what other honours he will give you. Winterfell and the North are your birth right, anything else is a bonus. Now go and rest you have a long day in front of you tomorrow.” His uncle says.


	3. Dragon Prince

**Sixth Month of 300 A.C. The Gay Abandon**

**Prince Aegon Targaryen**

After having spent much of his childhood on a boat, Aegon did not find himself ill at ease on the Gay Abandon one of the war Drummonds that made up part of the fleet taking them to Westeros. He looked back on his childhood with some fondness, he barely remembered his time in Pentos beyond a few memories of playing in the gardens with the servants and a girl with silver hair and violet eyes, and a woman looking on fondly. His memories are mainly of the hard labour he did on the Shy Maid and in the various villages along the Rhoyne that he and Griff would stay at. He still remembers the day he found out who he truly was and all the surprise and confusion that came with the revelation, now though he was comfortable with whom he was as a person and as a king.

Jon Connington was as good as a father toward Aegon, having taught him what it was to be a man, something his own father had been too much of a fool to have thought about before he had gone off with the Stark whore. Of course Aegon was curious as to what his mentor made of these Starks they were now allied with. “What do you make of Cregard Stark and his brother? They seemed like good men.”

“Indeed. Though I would advise caution when dealing with them. After all they have grown up in exile they do not know any of the lessons we made sure to teach you. They are everything exile send up being. Dangerous, deadly and cutthroat. They will use you to get Winterfell and then they will abandon you.” Jon says,

“So what you are saying is that they should not be trusted, beyond doing their job to secure the north for me? What if I were to try my charm on them? After all it worked with the Golden Company and with Waters.” Aegon asks.

His mentor is silent for a moment and then he says. “I do not mean to discourage you Your Grace, but the Golden Company is made up of men who were born in exile largely, and they all wish to go home, and there is also the case of some contracts being written in blood as well. As to waters I do believe the man has some ulterior motive but that is beyond my understanding now.”

“So what do you suggest I do then Jon? I do not have that much time before we land in the Stormlands and even then the northmen are heading north and are likely already making steady progress there.” Aegon questions.

“I say you take the Stormlands and win the throne before you worry about building up a relationship with Cregard Stark and his brothers.” Jon says.

“And what of my aunt? Do you think she will come when she learns that I am in Westeros?” Aegon asks hating that he sounds so much like a child as he does so.

Jon Connington is silent for a long time, so much so that Aegon’s patience begins to thin but eventually he speaks. “I believe your aunt must come to you when she hears of you. You are her last kin and kith. She owes you that much, you will not go to her a beggar, your conquests in the Stormlands will show that you are strong and that you can take the Iron Throne with or without her.”

“Must I wed her? Surely with my claim being superior to hers she must accept me as the true head of our house? And surely it would be better if I remained unwed so as to secure more alliances in the future.” Aegon asks.

Jon sighs and says. “We have been over this many times Aegon, she is essential in ensuring the lords of Westeros accept that you are who you say you are. To do otherwise will leave a shred of doubt in their minds no matter what they say publicly. If Daenerys Targaryen accepts you and weds you then no one else will dare question you, not with three dragons at your beck and call.”

“So I must wed her then? And what of the Tyrell girl?” Aegon asks.

“What of her?” Jon asks quizzically.

“Would she not make a good second wife as well? To bring the Tyrells onto our side and show them that at least one royal family accepts their loyal service. Or if not as a second wife she could become your wife. After all I intend to name you my hand when I take the throne.” Aegon says.

His mentor does not look as happy as Aegon first thought he would but his voice is level when he says. “I thank you for the honour Your Grace. But now there are some other pressing matters we must discuss, such as how you plan to take the Rainwood.”

Aegon nods and looks at the map before them. “I will divide the host into three, one commanded by Ser Tom Flowers shall lead the assault on Rain House and the Rainwood as a whole. One commanded by Ser Laswell Peake shall assault Estermont and take it. And the final host shall march for Griffin’s Roost that host shall be commanded by me.”

His mentor nods and then says. “Very good and where will you organise a meet for when you wish to bring the three hosts together into the larger one once the crown responds?”

“Let the come to Griffin’s Roost we can then better plan for an assault on one of the main castles or if necessary organise a defensive position when it comes time to face the crown’s armies.” Aegon says.

“And where would you organise an assault? Which castle holds your fancy?” Jon asks.

Aegon considers for a moment and then looks at the map and points. “Storm’s End.”


	4. Red God

**Eighth Month of 300 A.C. Outside Winterfell**

**King Stannis I Baratheon**

Gods it was cold, but of course it was, it was winter here. In the north, far from home, from Dragonstone and the comforts he had known. Not that he was complaining, Dragonstone meant ruminating on the failure that had been the Blackwater, at least here he had some sort of traction, some reason for getting up in the dark mornings and fighting on. Bolton was in Winterfell the seat of the Starks, Arya Stark had once been there hidden but she had come to their camp thanks to the Greyjoy boy, Greyjoy who was his prisoner now alongside his sister. Stannis was unsure what to do with the pair of them, he would wait until after the battle to decide.

The battle that was raging through the storms, perhaps he should have brought Melisandre with him. Perhaps the red woman would have done the trick as she had done with Renly, but then the northmen would not respect him and they would flock back to Bolton. By the gods it was painful thinking of that, how much he had come to depend on a woman, a foreign one at that! He needed to curb her influence and fight on, the north needed him, and his kingdom needed him. He takes a step forward and swings light bringer, it does not glow as much as it used to do, his men say a sacrifice needs to be made, and how much he believes them he is not sure.

The battle rages through the thick snow and the storms. Stannis leading the vanguard, a strange choice for him. Normally he would take the back seat and command from the rear, but this time, something in him had urged him to lead from the front. And so he does, swinging his sword, left, right and centre. Hacking and slashing at the men in front of him, barely able to see them. He pushes on and swings, cutting and slashing with skill borne of a dozen battles. He remembers sparring in the yard with Robert on the rare occasions his older brother was home in Storm’s End before mother and father died, when he still knew how to laugh. He takes another step forward.

He pushes through the snow and the darkness, it is always dark here in the north. A clear sign that the true enemy is coming, his men say. A sign of winter he merely believes. Still he pushes through and swings his sword hacking and slashing at foes he is not entirely sure are there. He pushes on and swings and blocks and hacks and cuts and does all he can to ensure that he is the one leading the charge. The northmen are roaring something or the other behind him and in front of him. The battle rages on and Stannis begins to feel the tiredness that has affected him ever since he learnt of the Karstark betrayal, he is not the man he was before this all happened.

His tiredness begins to overwhelm him and his body begins to ache from the armour he has been wearing for the past few days now. The blows that begin to hit his body cause him to grunt in pain. A swing here, a blow there, and his armour is dented in several places and he is cut and stuck bleeding from a dozen wounds. Unable to move forward or backwards, all he can do is swing his sword and hope to the god, a god he does not believe in that he does not die today. He cannot afford to die today.

Tiredness it is all he knows as the darkness begins to grow around him, his horse is stuck and it cannot move. He does not have the will power nor the strength to get down and fight. So he merely swings his sword this way and that doing his best to protect himself. Sometimes it works as it does when men bearing the flayed man of Bolton come crashing down and die in their throes screaming out for mothers who will never hear them again. Sometimes it does not work as when a big bear of a man nearly carves his face in half but thanks to the snow only manages to imprint a big scar on his face. Gods is he tired, his horse finally manages to break through the snow and they move forward.

The battle seems to be going will for them, he can see a castle that surely must be Winterfell in the horizon. That gives him the strength and the extra determination to push on and continue to swing his sword. He swing and swings and his sword, Light Bringer is covered in blood, painted red it seems to sing with the blood covering it, and continues to do so as he swings it again and again and brings about the end of many more men’s lives. He does not know what has overcome him but soon enough he finds himself laughing, laughing at the futility of it all.

Laughing all the while, his great grandfather was known as the Laughing Storm for he used to laugh as he ran into battle. Was this how he felt, did he laugh to hide the pain away? Stannis does not know, nor will he ever know. He does not believe in a life after death, never wanted to, let what is dead stay dead. He merely pushes on and keeps swinging his sword, it seems to be glowing now, oh the irony of it all, it glows as its wielder comes face to face with death.

His horse breaks in the snow drifts allowing Stannis to avoid a swing that could have been deadly. He manages to jump from the horse before it gives way and during the fall he sees something that makes him think he is mistaken. Wolf banners? But all the Starks are dead, he shakes the thought from his mind and begins swinging his sword again laughing as he does so. A stab here, a stab there and smoke begins to drift from his wounds, and oh gods this is it, the end. As he falls to his knees he sees the wolf again and this time he suspects he is not dreaming.


	5. Of Wolf And Man

**Eighth Month of 300 A.C.: Outside Winterfell**

**Lord Commander Cregard Stark**

They had landed at White Harbour, and it had been everything Cregard had ever heard about or dreamed about. His great aunt had been a Manderly shipped off to Essos for some crime or the other, and she had regaled Cregard and his sibling about the wonders of White Harbour the only city in the north. They had been greeted with much surprise by Ser Wylis Manderly a cautious man after what the Lannisters had done to him and yet eager to see a Stark returned to Winterfell, no matter where that Stark had come from. Their numbers had been swelled by the addition of some 1,000 men from White Harbour, grateful additions. And then they had marched.

There was snow covering the grounds a mile thick in some places as they had marched flying banners of the wolf, for the first time in his life Cregard had had the chance to fly those banners and do so with pride. He was coming home and no one was going to get in his way. They had passed devastation along the way, carnage, and his anger had grown. These fools did not realise what a gift they had in the north, he would make them pay for that and so much more. He had met Robett Glover camped in the southern gate side of Winterfell with a host that was numerous, the numbers had swelled and now battle had commenced.

He had fought in heat, and in all other kinds of humid conditions, and in the biting cold, but never in snow. He and his men were not used to the snow coming into their faces as they fought, their movements were slower and some of them paid for that with their lives. These northmen they fought were strong and sturdy and not quite so quick to jump ship as some had hoped. No matter they would learn their lesson in time. Cregard swung his sword over and over again hacking and slashing away cutting and ducking, doing what he could to make an impact in the snow.

The battle was raging thick and fast, men were falling and dying, crying out for their mothers, fathers, loved ones. No one heard them though not over the sound of the war that was throwing so many off balance. Cregard continued swinging, hacking away at the men coming in front of him, men who continued to stand true to whatever messed up sense of duty they had. On and on it went, swinging, ducking, slashing and hacking. Cutting, ducking and slashing. That pattern was repeated several times during the course of the battle throughout it all Cregard tried to avoid falling into the snow, for he knew that if he fell he was not like to get back up again.

Snow is falling quite heavily now, Cregard can feel himself begin to tire but still he pushes on. Swinging his sword hacking away at those who come before him bearing not the banners he is familiar with as allies. They carry the flayed man on their armour and Cregard continued to swing his sword, the enemy was drawing closer and he needed to remove them before his plan could come into action. More and more of them kept seem to come, and his arms were getting sore now. How much longer he could keep going like this, he knew not, all he knew was that sooner or later he would need to give way.

He takes a fair few blows, men bearing some flaming heart upon their chest give him a good run for his money. Swinging their weapons like they are possessed by some demon or the other. Cutting and slashing away at him and forcing him to dig deep for his reserves of strength, he begins to fight back, slashing and slashing, hacking away. Doing what he can to remain above the ground, his armour is beginning to dent, blood is beginning to ooze out but still he keeps on fighting.

That is when he comes across the man with a crown atop his head and the flaming heart upon his armour. So this is Stannis Baratheon, the man who has aided the north during its struggles. A shame that it came to a southerner having to aid the north. It just goes to show what fools the usurper’s line truly were if they had to rely on a southerner to bail them out of trouble. He raises his sword and in one swift motion buries his sword in the man’s chest. He takes the man’s glowing sword from his body and moves on to the fight.

The battle rages on for a few more hours but by the time it is done, the flayed man has retreated and they are no closer to obtaining Winterfell than they were at the start. Tired and frustrated, Cregard orders an assault on the castle knowing that in its ruined state it won’t be as hard to take as if it were fully built. The assault goes relatively well they kill the defenders on the walls and begin fighting close at hand with the men inside the castle. Dustin and Ryswell men mainly.

Winterfell is big even in its ruined state and Cregard uses that thought of being home to drive all before him to their knees and to their deaths. He swings and swings and as he does so he roars. “Where is Roose Bolton?” no one answers the question but more men die from the swing of his blade, so much so that his own blood and that of the foes he has slain begin to mingle together until he can no longer tell which is which.

The battle continues for a bit longer, but eventually the men present in the castle throw down their weapons and his brother comes up to him once the din has settled and says. “We have looked everywhere we cannot find Bolton or his bastard.”

Cregard looks at the gathered crowd and roars. “Someone tell me where Roose Bolton and his bastard are or heads will roll.”


	6. A Prince

**10 th Month of 300 A.C. Storm’s End**

**Prince Aegon Targaryen**

The snows had delayed their departure from Griffin’s Roost, it was both infuriating and fascinating. Growing up in Essos he had never really known snow, and now it was everywhere. It was quite fascinating he had to admit, and he did not mind the delay somewhat. But his nerves kept on growing, as the days turned into weeks. He worried that the Tyrells and Lannisters would stop their bickering for long enough to realise that he was actually a threat and that then all their hard work would amount to nothing. As such that was not the case, but still his nerves were there.

His nerves are beginning to pick up on the march towards Storm’s End, they are flying the Baratheon colours, the ones that the pretender Stannis Baratheon uses, and the flaming heart with a stag in the centre. A clever move to distract the besiegers and those under siege from their true intentions. The might of the Golden Company marches with them, the elephants coming in handy now, dragging boulders with them, he wonders if they will be effective in the snow. They come to the crossroads and Aegon raises his hand to stop the march. He counts down from ten, waiting, waiting for the sign. As the horn is sound he lowers his hand and the battle begins.

The castles they had taken had not involved him, this being his first taste of battle sees him accordingly quite nervous. Unsure of how to proceed he raises his sword and begins swinging and slashing away at the men coming before him. Swinging and hacking, cutting, ducking and dodging. Men fall to his sword, it seems the training he put in with Duck and Griff has finally come in useful as he swings his sword again and again and men begin to fall. Blood covers his sword, his armour covered in red snow as the battle progresses through and through on and on. There is no end in sight for this dance and it is something he is grateful for, for the longer it goes on the more accustomed he becomes to the sight of war.

Swinging and slashing, that’s how the routine goes, hacking away at the men who come before him bearing the banner of the other pretender Tommem Baratheon. Swinging and slashing, cutting and hacking, the dance moves on at lightning speed, it is something that he has found concerning in the past but now he revels in it. Swinging and cutting roaring his approval for the dead as they fall to the ground and begin writhing in pain. The dance moves on, swinging and slashing ducking and dodging. He takes a few blows himself but nothing too serious. Swinging and slashing. The dance, it is all a dance that is how he deals with the bloodshed he causes, with the lives he has ended, a dance to reclaim what is rightfully his.

On it goes this dance of pain and suffering they go through the dance and Aegon ends up victorious as the men they are fighting do not seem to hold any true purpose. Their commander is brought before Aegon in chains one Mathis Rowan, the gates of Storm’s End open, and as per the plan Aegon barks out one order. “Put the garrison to the sword.” And he watches from the entranceway as the Baratheon men in the castle are killed their screams echoing throughout the walls and causing Aegon to momentarily cringe from the sound.

Once they have been put to the sword Aegon marches to the solar and sits in the chair that once belonged to Renly Baratheon. Jon gives him a report of the battle. “We lost 3,000 men Your Grace. Our numbers now stand at some 6,000. But that is not all there has been correspondence found in the rookery. It would appear that King’s Landing is in even greater trouble than we first thought.”

Aegon nods and takes a sip of wine before saying. “Bring the commander of the men laying siege here. I wish to speak with him.” Sure enough the man is brought before him and he asks. “What is your name Ser?”

The man stares at him in disbelief and then says. “Lord Mathis Rowan. And you, you are him, Prince Rhaegar’s son. I see it now. I did not believe the rumours nor did I believe the Spider. I see that perhaps I have been misguided.”

Aegon looks at Jon who merely shrugs and says. “Indeed I am Prince Aegon, as to how I survived that is a tale for another time. But seeing as you are one of Lord Tyrell’s most trusted bannermen, you must know his strengths and weaknesses. Tell them to me.”

Rowan is silent for a moment and then says. “I only know what I was told before Lord Mace left for King’s Landing. We have had no news from the capital since then. As to what else I know, there are Ironborn raiding the reach under Euron Greyjoy, the Shield Islands have fallen and there are rumours that the man means to take Oldtown.”

“And do you think this news will cause the Reacherlords to abandon the Fat Flower?” Aegon asks.

“I am not sure Your Grace. Lord Mace is many things but he has led the Reach into prosperity and the Tyrells are well liked in the Reach. His daughter has drawn much praise from Oldtown, as well and as such this might see her released from King’s Landing. I believe you might be better off working with the Tyrells rather than against them.” Rowan says.

“And how am I to do this when they are in King’s Landing and I remain here for the nonce?” Aegon asks.

“Allow me to return to King’s Landing and bring Lord Mace news of the fall of Storm’s End. In order to save face he will send someone with which to treat with you. Either that or you could consider marching for the Reach and aiding the Hightowers.” Lord Rowan says.

Aegon takes a sip of wine as he considers this and then he says. “You shall go to King’s Landing but Ser Harry Strickland shall go with you.”

The man is dismissed and then Jon says. “Are you sure that is a wise move Your Grace? We do not know whether Rowan will remain true, and Strickland is a fickle animal.”

Aegon takes another sip of wine and then says. “What choice do I have Jon? I need to move things along and if I can sow the seeds of discord a bit more between the two factions the better.”

A knock at the door and Rolly enters saying. “There is a Lord Varys here to see you Your Grace.”

 

 


	7. Growing Strong

**11 th Month of 300 A.C. King’s Landing**

**Lord Mace Tyrell.**

It had been six months since he had taken the position he had most coveted, Mace Tyrell Hand of the King. It had a nice ring to it, and it seemed with the position came all the power that his mother had talked of. Though it had turned out be quite the headache what with the Faith up in arms about this, that and the other. The High Sparrow was a pain the arse as far as Mace was concerned and he could not wait for the day the man finally died. Cersei Lannister had tried to make a comeback into power but her trial had gotten into the way of that and now she was looking at death for her crimes unless her champion the unusually strong Ser Robert Strong prevailed against the Gravedigger.

But that was a worry for another day, as Mace sat in a meeting with his lords bannermen and Septon Meribald. “So the High Septon has once more stated that my daughter is free to leave the Great Sept of Baelor whenever she wishes. But whenever she tries to leave she is stopped by some harridan septa or the other. I truly wish to know what the meaning of this is.”

To his credit the Septon looked very contrite. “I admit my lord hand I am not sure why that is. For the High Septon has himself said to me that the Lady Margaery is free to go as she has been acquitted of her crimes. Though I do believe he worries that you will see your daughter reinstated as Queen once she returns from Baelor.”

Mace begins to feel anger boil up at this, “She is the Queen. Despite some ridiculous agreement that was signed with a sword over her head, she is the Queen and by all the laws of gods and men wed to his grace King Tommem. Her rightful place is here in the Red Keep.”

Septon Meribald raises his hands up placating and merely says. “I am simply conveying what the High Septon wishes for me to convey. I am not questioning either of your motives. I am merely the messenger.”

Mace feels his anger grow at that and as if sensing it Lord Randyll asks the man. “And if you were in the High Septon’s place what would you do?”

The man looks very nervous as he says in a whisper. “I would remember where the faith gets its most prolific support from and where it was once based. But I fear the High Sparrow does not know these games nor these platitudes. He is so consumed by his desire to humble all. I fear he is no longer the man the most devout elected.”

With that the man stands and leaves, once he is gone Mace turns to his lords and asks. “Thoughts?”

Randyll of course says. “I believe this man needs to be removed. He is nothing but a parasite in the greater scheme of things and as such must needs be treated as such. If left to stand the Kingdoms will fall into chaos and anarchy.”

Paxter is silent for a moment and then says. “I believe we should try and install our own candidate into the Faith. Let them begin to rot from the inside and see this candidate as their saviour. It worked for this mad man let it work for our own candidate.”

Mace considers this and then asks. “And do you have a candidate in mind?”

Paxter smiles and says. “Well there is that Dornish snake what is she called Tyene? The perfect way to remove the stain of the High Sparrow from court and the perfect way to see to it that Dorne has one less ear here.”

Mace smiles nodding in approval before turning to Lord Mathis and asking. “What news do you bring from Storms End that could not be carried by raven old friend?”

He does not expect the next words to come out his friend’s mouth. “Prince Aegon Targaryen has returned. He holds Storm’s End. I have come as his prisoner to give you, his terms.”

He looks at Paxter and bursts out laughing. “Returned. This is an imposter Mathis nothing more. What proof does he have that he is who he says he is?”

“The word of his hand Jon Connington and a signed and sealed document which they both claim to be writ in the hand of Princess Elia.” Mathis responds.

Randyll speaks then. “How convenient, Connington was Prince Rhaegar’s nearest and dearest friend it would make sense that he wishes to help the son in the way he could not aid the father. And who is to confirm that it is Princess Elia’s hand with this supposed proof?”

Mace expects Rowan to give up then but the man continues. “I read the document with my own eyes it seems legitimate. And you all know how much contact I maintained with the Princess and Prince Rhaegar before the rebellion.”

“Do you have the letter on you Mathis?” Mace asks. “That is the only way we can sort out whether this boy is real or not.”

Mathis hesitates for a moment and then pulls out the letter which is addressed to no one in particular. Mace does take a deep breath though as he recognises the Princess’s neat script and begins reading as he reads he looks from the letter to Mathis and back again and the pieces begin to align. Once he is done reading he passes it to Paxter who has the same reaction to Randyll who appears to go red. “It seems that this is genuine. What does the boy propose?”

Mathis is silent for a moment and then he says. “If we bend the knee he will pardon us for our roles in keeping the Baratheons on the throne. And he will also aid us against the Ironborn.”

“And what about Margaery?” Mace asks.

“The Prince says he has friends who can aid us in convincing the High Sparrow to release Lady Margaery and to remove the High Sparrow from power as well.” Mathis says.

“And how would he do that, when even I cannot seem to remove him from power?” Mace asks.

“With the workings of spiders and mice my lord hand.” Mathis says.


	8. Finest Hour

**2 nd Month of 301 A.C. Winterfell**

**Lord Cregard Stark**

Winterfell was in shambles, the usurper had left it in ruins and to rot at the hands of the Boltons and Ironborn in his naivety, the more Cregard heard about this Young Wolf, the more he thought the boy had more sense in his cock and sword arm than in his brain. A shame really for he would’ve liked to meet the boy who had become first king in the north since Torrhen Stark had knelt 300 years ago. Right now though there were more pressing matters that needed to be discussed, after a few months of searching Roose Bolton had been found and dragged back to Winterfell, his bastard was still missing but that was a matter for another day. Cregard could sense the anger and the anticipation in the great hall of Winterfell as he sat and the man was brought before him.

Clearing his throat to bring silence to the room, he speaks clearly and loudly. “My lords and ladies, I thank you all for coming. And whilst winter has us all in its firm grip, justice must needs be done. For those who suffered under the leadership of Roose Bolton. The man before you all is that man, the man who commanded the host at the Green Fork and who conspired with Tywin Lannister to bring down Robb Stark and his family in that atrocity known as the Red Wedding. What do you have to say for yourself Bolton?”

There is some hissing and booing as Bolton opens his mouth but it largely quiets at a butt of a spear from Torrhen Umber. The man’s voice is soft. “I admit to planning the fall of the young wolf, and I would accept that. The boy was just that, a boy trying to play a man’s role. And whilst he did well in the fighting in the politics of the game he failed and as such he paid the price. Allowing Theon Greyjoy to leave his side was suicide and his passions with that Westerling girl was more of a waste. He brought the north to its knees and as such deserved to die.”

A lot of murmuring follows this with both Umber brothers cursing and swearing at the man. Cregard raises his hand and all falls silent. He looks at the man and says. “So you do not deny that you are very responsible for the fall of House Stark and the red wedding? Tell me Lord Bolton what did you hope to achieve by bringing the downfall about?”

Bolton says nothing for a long time and the crowd begins to stir up once more and then he says very softly. “I wished to achieve what all of my forebearers have hoped in one form another since the days of the age of heroes. We wished to rule the north, and I was no different. The promise of that from Tywin Lannister was something that when looking at the boy who was the king was something too great to refuse. Though I knew that I would never hold the north for too long so long as the Imp and Sansa Stark remained alive. And neither shall you.”

His brother Torrhen barks out. “What nonsense this man speaks. He is broken and beat and yet still he continues to badger on about nonsense. This is not the young wolf you speak to Bolton, but Cregard Stark, the man who regained the north for the rightful rules of Winterfell and the north.”

Bolton laughs then and says. “Oh but if that is what you think then you are sadly mistaken for there are people here who are already working for their own gain. Seeking to put their own Stark on the winter throne and as such you will not last very long unless you seek to act on putting them down.”

Cregard merely grunts and says. “He speaks nonsense my lords and ladies. The words of a dying man.” He stands up then and walks down the stairs and unsheathes his sword. “If you have nothing more to say then Roose Bolton in the name of King Aegon Targaryen sixth of his name, rightful king of Westeros I do hereby sentence you to death.” With one swing he removes Roose Bolton’s head and thus removes one serious threat to his rule. He then retires to the lord’s solar where his brother, Mors and Hothar Umber, Alysanne Mormont and some of the chiefs of the Mountain Clans convene as well.

Once they have all gathered, Alysanne Mormont speaks. “My lord, our riders have not been able to find Ramsay Snow yet, and as such the number of mutilated bodies appearing continue to grow. It is a sure sign that the man is baiting and mocking us.”

“Where do these bodies appear?” Cregard asks.

Mormont is silent for a moment and then she says. “Mainly the villages of the Wolfswood though one or two have been appearing in Wintertown.”

At this Cregard perks up and asks. “Wintertown? They have been appearing that close to us? By the gods the man has no sense of direction now he is off his leash. I want the number of guards around Walda Frey increased, Snow will be going after her soon enough.”

Mormont nods and then Mors Umber asks. “What do you plan to do with the woman? If she bears a son then there will be more trouble.”

Cregard considers this for a moment and then says. “She shall be kept in Winterfell until she has given birth and once the sex of the child has been decided then I shall act not before. Needless to say the Dreadfort shall not sit in Bolton hands ever again. As to whom it sits will depend on future activities. Now Lord Wull, you have come here as part of Stannis Baratheon’s force, tell me what has happened to the southerners?”

The Wull is silent for a moment and then in his gruff manner says. “They are dying by the dozens my lord, those that did not die in the battle or have not since been sent to fight to free Torrhen’s Square are dying from cold and starvation and as such are beginning to complain.”

Cregard nods. “Good, let us continue that. These southerners are not the ones we want coming with us when we march south. Fire worshipping harlots deserve the deaths that will come to them. Now tell me what you know of this fire woman whom Stannis’s men regard as the true queen?”

The Flint speaks then. “She is some sort of sorceress that much is true. And my boys say she is beautiful to look upon but cold to speak to. It is said that she holds the Lord Commander of the Night’s Watch in her thrall.”

“Very well, let us wait for news on how she reacts before moving on her. Now as to those lords who sided with Bolton we must deal with them in equal measure. Dustin and Ryswell are to be pardoned but will have some of their lands stripped from them. Boltons bannermen shall be sent out to find Snow.” Cregard says.

The lords around him nod and Cregard dismisses them from his solar, a minute later he asks his brother. “What did Manderly have to say?”

His brother Torrhen is silent a moment and then says in a voice barely above a whisper. “He admits to sending Davos Seaworth off to find Rickon Stark, though as of yet no one as heard back from Seaworth nor has Wylis Manderly found anything more. Nor has there been word from Galbert Glover or Howland Reed as to what was in the Young Wolf’s will.”

Cregard nods and then says. “Very well, keep an ear to the ground about Rickon, and let us find out what these other lords know. Then we shall march out to the Square to deal with the Ironborn and Ramsay Snow.”


	9. Alayne Stone

**Fifth Month of 301 A.C. Gates of the Moon**

**Alayne Stone**

Alayne was fascinated by the snow, watching it for many hours in the time when her father did not need her. Watching it settle on the ground and watching others play in it, the nobles of Lord Robert’s court frolicked in it, but Alayne as a mere bastard was not allowed such pleasures and as such had to content herself with merely looking through the window. Lord Robert was growing weaker with every passing day, and Alayne was not sure what was wrong with him, they were giving him all they could to make him better and yet he never got better, and as such Alayne grew closer to Harry because of this. She was not sure whether she liked Harry or if she merely wanted some safety, she remembered a girl called Sansa would’ve once loved to be shown such attention, but Alayne was not Sansa was much more suspicious of men.

Of course just now she had to attend to her father, and as such she waited patiently for him to begin speaking. When he did he did not disappoint. “I have been speaking with Lady Anya and we have decided that you shall wed Harry in a week’s time.”

Alayne was somewhat taken aback by this. “But father is that not too soon? I thought we would go with a slightly lengthy betrothal whilst you got all you could from Ironoaks?”

Her father laughed slightly. “This is very true my sweet. But alas, with news coming from the north of the rogue Cregard Stark claiming Winterfell and the false fealty of the lords of the north, it is time to move the plan forward in motion. Now tell me what do you know of Cregard Stark?”

Sansa Stark had not been very good with the distant relations across the narrow sea but Alayne was. “Cregard Stark is the Lord Commander of the Company of the Rose, a title he inherited from his father Brandon who died in 296 A.C. As such the man is hard as stone and cold and a good warrior. But he lacks the skills needed to charm all else to his side. That he is friends with Aegon Targaryen is something that might hold for a little while.”

Father nods and says. “Very good my sweet. But we both know the north will never bend the knee to an exile who had never stepped foot in the north before this, when faced with the trueborn daughter of Eddard Stark and Catelyn Tully.”

Alayne gasps and something pushes forward. “You mean I shall not be Alayne anymore father?”

Father nods and says. “Indeed that is what shall happen my sweet. From tonight you shall be Alayne Stone no more and shall be Sansa Stark, the true lady of Winterfell and Queen in the north. And with your marriage to Harrold Hardying, the might of the Vale shall be at your disposal.”

Sansa feels something akin to joy in her heart and then asks. “But how will the Vale come to my aid when Sweetrobin still lives and Harry is but the heir?”

Her father says nothing for a moment and then says. “Ah but our Sweetrobin loves you so much I am sure he would be more than willing to give you his men to reclaim your birthright.”

And seeing the sense in this Sansa speaks. “And the lords of the Vale have been so desperate to get involved in the fighting, and for the chance to avenge Lord Eddard and King Robb that they will jump at this chance.”

Her father smiles and stands. “Of course my darling girl.” He then kisses her on the lips before moving his hands to cup her breasts breaking away when the door begins to creak open.

That night there is a grand feast that Alayne watches from some distance keeping herself to herself until asked to dance with Harry which she does so with some joy and some happiness, finally she will be allowed to go home and this time she shall rule in her own right. Eventually she disappears to remove the brown from her hair, and when she returns she can hear her father say. “My lords and ladies, I thank you for coming tonight to attend this feast, during the midst of what looks to be a hard winter. Whilst the Targaryens and the Lannisters and Tyrells wage war in the south, the Vale continues to prosper. And I know that many of you have harboured a desire to avenge the Starks at the hands of those who have wronged them. We all know of the false Stark sitting in Winterfell, a man who would see Ned Stark’s line disappear from the face of the earth.” There is some grumbling from various people and then Lord Baelish says. “Well I say that the man is wrong and foolish to believe so for I have the last surviving child of Eddard Stark and Catelyn Tully, Sansa dear come forward.”

There are some shocked gasps at this and Lord Horton Redfort asks. “How can we believe that this is Ned’s girl? When she has been passed off as your bastard for so long Lord Petyr?”

Lyn Corbray stands up then his hand on Lady Forlorn and says. “I can assure you Horton that the girl is whom Lord Baelish says she is. After all she speaks like one and acts like one. Especially like dearest Ned.”

There is more murmuring and then Harry steps forward and says boldly. “I for one believe Lord Baelish and do hereby pledge my love to the lady Sansa and swear to win her back her birthright.” He takes her hand and kisses it and as he steps back more lords come forward to do the same, and then chants go up around the hall, and Sansa looks at Lord Petyr and wonders how she can rid herself of the man.

Three days later a letter comes from King’s Landing writ in the hand of the High Septon announcing the annulment of her marriage to Tyrion Lannister, and letters are sent to the north and throughout the Vale declaring her presence and life. And four days after that, she and Harry are wed and then preparations for war begin.


	10. Rise of the Dragon

**Seventh Month of 301 A.C. Crownlands**

**King Aegon VI Targaryen.**

Storm’s End had fallen after fairly quickly, and Aegon had been very happy with that. The Stormlands were under their control, and had rallied to his banner after the problems with the Baratheons and the discontent with the Lannisters.  Aegon had confirmed Jon Connington, the man who was more of a father to him than his own father would’ve likely been as Lord of Storm’s End and had named him Lord Paramount of the Stormlands. From Storm’s End it had been a long journey in the snow that had delayed them moving from the castle, and as such many plans had been made and scrapped in that time for the final taking of King’s Landing.

Now though, now the snow had cleared somewhat to allow them the chance to move from the castle and into the place where he wished to reclaim his throne. Already machinations were being put in place to make the taking of the city easier, the Tyrells were said to be changing sides, and with Lady Margaery cleared of her crimes and free to do as she pleased, and Aegon hoped such things would not make the Tyrells more likely to support him. Jon of course was much wearier of the roses, saying that nothing should be expected of them for whom they were. Still Aegon was keen to get going, they had met little trouble as they marched from Storm’s End some 15,000 strong a combination of sellswords and Stormlanders and Aegon could feel the vibes coming.

Nerves, that was the feeling he had as they marched through the snow and the woods, no resistance yet and yet not sign of the banners of the rose, something was most definitely going on as to what it was he was not sure yet. News from the rest of Westeros kept filtering in, Cregard Stark had successfully taken Winterfell and driven out the remainder of the Ironborn from the north and was soon to be marching down south to aid him in the taking of the city should things not go according to plan. But a surprising discovery had been made, Sansa Stark the last surviving child of the traitor Eddard Stark was still alive, and had been wed to Harry Hardying and was now marching towards the north with an army of Valemen to try and reclaim her birthright. All this had left Aegon reeling and wondering if his friend would be able to make much progress or if more battle would come from this. As for the Reach, Euron Greyjoy continued to raid and plunder the place with impunity and as such it seemed Aegon would have to turn there first when it came to it.

His thoughts switched to the battle that was to come when the sight of King’s Landing came into view, and in front of the city was an army bearing not a dragon banner or the banner of House Tyrell but rather the banner of the Lion of Lannister and the banner of Tommem Baratheon. Aegon sighed and looked to his friend and mentor Jon Connington who looked at him and said. “Something must have gone awry, the Tyrells clearly are not whom we thought they were.” Aegon nods and orders his men to form into positon, and in the form of a bull’s head they march towards the enemy who begins charging towards them as well. The battle begins with a massive crash as steel crashes against steel and then the tide begins to swift and turn, and on it goes. Aegon commanding from the van faces most hits, taking dents and blows, but managing to kill many of the enemy who come before him.

Swinging round into a wild formation the van manages to hold against an assault from what Aegon supposes is the van of the enemy host. Though they are laxidasical in their approach they still manage to do some damage. Aegon watches his men and friends alike fall to this onslaught, but still they hold the line and bring through the vanguard of the enemy and begin pushing on towards the city and the walls.  Still they push on and soon enough the enemy guarding the gates falls before them, and Aegon roars his triumph though he is covered somewhat in blood and gore.

Symbolically they enter through the dragon gate, and as such the men who are covering the gate are slain and Aegon knows more men will be coming off of the ships and onto the other gates from Aurane’s fleet and as such this fills him with a sense of happiness. His sword, covered in blood as it is, continues to gleam and sing in happiness as he uses it. More and more men die as he swings his sword, and leading the charge up towards Aegon’s High Hill, he feels a sense of anticipation begin to grow. Tiredness sets in but still on they go, he knows his men are pushing into the city and that soon enough King’s Landing will be his but still he has to go on.

Through the pain and agony they push on, and the sword continues to guide him his men roar in approval every time he does something. They bang down the doors of the Red Keep and charge in killing all those who stand in their way, later he will regret that action but just now, just now he is riding high on battle lust. He navigates his way through the maze of the red keep following the images and the discussion had with Jon and Varys and soon enough finds himself bursting through a door into the throne room where, he finds Mace Tyrell sat on the Iron Throne.  Aegon feels anger beginning to boil inside of him at the man’s impudence it is only when Duck runs forward and touches the man and his body falls to the floor, that they all realise that the man is dead.  Aegon looks at Duck and then says. “Find me Cersei Lannister and her son.” And with that Duck goes off and he dismounts from his horse and walks towards the Iron Throne, he stares at it for a long time before eventually turning and sitting down.


	11. Wolves At War

**Ninth Month of 301 A.C. Moat Cailin**

**Lord Cregard Stark**

The north was secure, the last of the Ironborn had been driven out of Torrhen’s Square with Cregard personally being the one to see to Dagmer Cleftjaw himself. The man had put up quite a fight, and still it had been good to see the scum removed from his north. The people of the north seemed to be slowly coming more accustomed to him and to whom he was. That his brother and sister had so charmed the northern lords and ladies at the feast that Cregard had been advised to hold had more than made up for his own lack of entertaining his guests, for he could not understand such frivolity though his lords seemed to enjoy it. And when the raven had arrived from King’s Landing announcing Aegon’s conquest of King’s Landing and his crowning, Cregard had felt happy for the boy, that at least he had gotten his just deserts, that the raven also confirmed Cregard as Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North was just an added bonus.

And now there was a challenge coming to his claim as Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North. He had received the raven written by that girl, or was it a man, what kind of a name was Petyr Baelish anyway, or Sweetrobin? But regardless someone was coming to challenge his claim and he would not have it. “Tell me what news there is of the Valemen coming.” He said.

Lord Howland Reed the Lord of Greywater Watch spoke. “My lord, my men and women have reported that a vast host of Valemen are coming up the causeway slowed down by snow and by arguments with Freys but they are still coming.”

“And what are their numbers? Who is leading the host?” Cregard asks.

The small crangongman is silent a moment and then says. “Around 20,000 men my lord. And it does seem that Ser Harry Hardying is the one commanding the host as heir to the Vale. Though it does seem as though Lord Yohn Royce would really be leading the host and as such, some green boy errors might not be made.”

Cregard nods and then says. “What are these men like? Lord Rodrik you fought beside the men during the rebellion what can you tell me of them?”

Rodrik Ryswell a man who is very lucky to still be alive takes his time in answering but when he does his response seems well thought out. “Well my lord, Lord Yohn Royce is a stubborn man with more pride than sense, though he is without peer as a commander in the Vale. Lord Horton Redfort is an old man and someone more prone to caution than exuberance, and as for Lord Devon Melcolm, well the man is so green he pisses grass.”

“And can anyone of them be bought or sold off into doing our bidding?” Cregard asks.

There is silence for a moment and then Lord Wylis speaks. “I do not think so my lord. Their honour will not allow them to do such a thing. Furthermore, as they are fighting on the order of Robert Arryn they will remain true to their word until such time as they are either dead or their cause is well and truly lost. It is perhaps better, to think about removing the main threat one way or another.”

“And you mean to suggest removing the Lady Sansa Stark would do the job just as well as seeing the lords of the Vale bought off? What makes you think such a course of action would go down well?” Cregard asks.

“It is an evil that is true, to kill a young girl, but a necessary one at that. Something that must be done to ensure the future of the north.” Wylis Manderly says, and considering the man knows about Rickon Stark Cregard is quite tempted to agree with him.

And yet Lord Howland speaks then. “What you suggest is not honourable Lord Wylis. It is one thing to kill a foe in battle, and yet another to kill a harmless girl who wants nothing more than to return home. Besides, killing the girl would only alienate the lords who remember Lord Eddard’s memory as she is his only surviving child.”

There is some murmuring at that and Lady Maege does say. “What Lord Howland says is true my lords. Killing the lady Sansa would do nothing to further the cause and ensure stability in the north. Better to deal with the threat her husband poses and to ensure that he is no longer around when the final day comes.”

Some more murmuring at that and then his brother Torrhen speaks. “What is this Harrold Hardying like then? Is he someone who will command respect?”

Silence and then Lord Wylis speaks. “According to those from Gulltown whom have met the boy, he seems a good sort of lad, a strong man with a good sense of honour and good with a sword in his hand. Though whether he has the brains for command is another issue.”

Cregard nods and then says. “Very well then we shall deal with them when they make it through the neck. Lord Howland, I want you and your men and women to bleed them every step of the way.” The man nods and then Cregard looks at all of them and says. “Now there is nothing more to discuss so all of you apart from Torrhen and Lord Wylis leave and prepare for the next set of instructions.”  Once the other lords have left Cregard turns his attention to Lord Wylis and asks him. “Has your man succeeded yet?”

The lord of White Harbour is silent for a moment and then nods. “Yes my lord. Rickon Stark is back in White Harbour as we speak alongside his wolf and the wildling Osha.”

Cregard nods. “Good that is very good. Once this fight is done I mean to speak with the wildling woman and with Lady Sansa and from there we might carve a path for little Rickon that is to my liking.”


	12. King Crown

**Eleventh Month of 301 A.C. King’s Landing**

**King Aegon VI Targaryen**

King’s Landing was a metropolis, filled with all kinds of activity and life. Something that was a huge surprise for Aegon who had for the most part grown up on a boat, away from most civilizations for his own good and safety. Of course that had left him somewhat hindered when it came time for social interaction but thankfully he had enough charm and stamina to keep going with the daily routine of court and small council meetings. The lords of the crownlands had been more than  willing to come and swear fealty to him once he had made it clear that they would face no recriminations, and considering they had not actually truly taken part in the war he thought it only right. And then there had been the issue of the Tyrells, Mace Tyrell had been killed whilst sat on the throne, Lady Margaery remained at court a hostage to her brother Willas’s loyalty, and yet she had not tried anything with him and that had somewhat confused him. And then there were the Lannisters, Cersei Lannister had been executed her son Tommem had been killed by his mother during their taking of the red Keep and Myrcella Lannister had come to court and been acknowledged as a Lannister and her marriage to Trystane Martell confirmed.

And now he was in one of said council meetings trying to wrap his head around the issues being discussed. “So you are telling me that despite my naming Cregard Stark Lord of Winterfell, and the lords of the north bending the knee to him and officially recognising him as Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the north, the lords of the Vale continue to insist that Sansa Hardying is the rightful lady of Winterfell? Why do they continue to insist on such action?”

His hand Jon Connington spoke then. “I do believe it is because they knew Eddard Stark and as such think that through seeing Sansa Hardying attached as Lady of Winterfell they might be able to gain more influence and power. Especially as they essentially sat out most of the fighting they are desperate to get some sort of action done.”

Aegon nodded and then looked at Varys and asked him. “My lord what do you make of this? And is it truly just to see Sansa Hardying back onto her father’s seat or is there some other motive at play?”

The master of whispers is silent a moment and then says. “Well Your Grace, as much as I would like to say that that is the case, with it being Lord Baelish who is the man who announced the Lady Sansa’s re-emergence I cannot but help think that there is some other motive that the man is working with. Furthermore, the man has always been keen to show himself as a friend of the Tullys, and that he did not come to bend the knee when summons were sent, suggests he has his ambitions on an independent north.”

There is some murmuring at that and Aegon clenches his fist. “That is not something I can allow. And whilst I know Cregard Stark swore to see me on the throne in return for the north, some part of me cannot help but wonder if perhaps I need to remind him that I am the king not him.”

Silence and then the master of coin Lord Harry Strickland speaks then. “Whilst that it is a noble sentiment Your Grace, it is one that cannot be afforded by the treasury at present. Largely due to the fact that the crown’s coffers are very nearly empty, whilst Mace Tyrell managed to pay off most of the debt owed to the Iron Bank he did so raising taxes on the lords of the crownlands and by using his own coin. And as such the collection from the crownlands is falling as it is from the Stormlands and the Westerlands.”

“And why is that? Has the treasury not sought to reinforce the principles of taxation in those regions that were for a long time very much in thrall to our enemies?” Aegon asks. “It has been some months since we were crowned. Sooner or later we shall need to take a deeper look into this situation.”

“Whilst, that is a good way to go about things Your Grace, I do believe there are certain things that must be considered first, which are closer to home. Most specifically the lords of Crackclaw point who are causing all kinds of trouble for the other lords of the realm. And the lords of the Riverlands some of whom are siding with Sansa Hardying in trying to place her on the winter throne. And then there is the issue of the Ironborn in the Reach.” His hand says.

Aegon runs a hand through his hair then and sighs in frustration. “The lords of Crackclaw point are the most pressing situation right now. What sort of things are they doing and what are their demands?”

Jon looks at the piece of paper before him and then says. “They want taxes lowered and they want to break from Claw Isle, Lord Adrian Celtigar has begun making moves onto claiming the point and as such the people of the point have come to deeply resent that as well as the interference of other lords from the crownlands.”

Aegon sighs once more and running a hand through his hair turns to ask Harry. “Can we afford to lower taxes or not?”

Strickland considers this a moment and then says. “Considering the fact that the High Septon allowed the crown’s debts to them to be cleaned off with the reinstatement of the faith militant and the subsequent death of the High Septon, I reckon that perhaps we can afford somewhat to. Though the lords of Crackclaw point might prefer more personal intervention from you Your Grace.”

Aegon runs a hand through his hair once more and then says. “Very well I shall ride out with some 500 men to the point to personally deal with their problems. Meanwhile I want a 2% cut on taxes to the lords of the crownlands, effective immediately. Now Lord Varys tell me what the situations are in the Westerlands and the Reach.”

The master of whispers is silent a moment and then he says. “Euron Greyjoy continues raiding along the Reach, the Shield Islands have fallen to his grasp, and after a failed attack on Oldtown, he turned his attention to the Arbor, taking advantage of the lack of the Redwyne fleet sacking the island and taking much plunder. Since then he has left some men behind but it seems he is moving towards the city itself. King’s Landing is his goal. As for the Westerlands, chaos reigns there Your Grace. Various Lannisters are at one another’s throats and their bannermen rebel against them.”

Gods so many problems. “Very well,” he says. “Send word to Lord Paxter Redwyne and tell him to send the Redwyne Fleet from Dragonstone and to prowl the seas ready for the Iron Fleet. And Aurane I want you prowling the seas as well. Once Euron Greyjoy is defeated we shall teach the Iron Islands a lesson they shall never forget. As for the Lannisters we shall leave them to destroy themselves for the time being. Now if there was only so much information available as to what my aunt is doing.”


	13. Third Time's The Charm

**2 nd Month of 302 A.C. Moat Cailin**

**Lady Sansa Stark**

The battle for Moat Cailin had raged for nearly two moons, Sansa had told her husband and Littlefinger that they would never gain purchase going through the neck, that the cranongman would bleed them dry every step of the way, and they had both laughed at her. Harry laughing her off due to her being a simple girl and not some warrior, and Littlefinger, well Littlefinger she knew not why he had laughed at her, but then he had said that as she was Lord Eddard’s daughter Howland Reed would never stand against her. How wrong they had both been, Harry was dead, slain by Cregard Stark himself, and Littlefinger, well Littlefinger was dead as well but not by any enemy hands but by her own.

Littlefinger had come to try it on with her, as he had tried to do many times during this campaign and during her time in the Vale. Most of the time she had managed to offload him with just a kiss, even if it had made her feel like she was nothing more than a whore, but sometimes he would push harder and threaten her and scare her into doing more for him. As he had done the night of Harry’s death, he had come in stinking of wine talking of putting a babe in her belly to ensure that they could continue this fight. And as such he had forced himself on her, and she had screamed and screamed but no one had come to aid her, just as no one had come to rescue her in King’s Landing, not Robb, Not Jon, not her father no one had come to rescue her and so she had had to do something herself. She had pushed him off before he could try anything too lasting and grabbing a knife she had kept by her bedside during the fighting she had lunged at him and hacked and stabbed until he lay there dead and sputtering.

Of course Sansa once she had realised what she had done, had gone about calling for aid, thankfully they had been in Littlefinger’s tent so that none suspected her. And yet once the main schemer was dead, the lords of the Vale seemed less willing to fight for a cause that truly they did not seem to be really that invested in. and as such Sansa had suggested that she ride to meet with Cregard Stark and his men, and that was why she was here now inside Moat Cailin for the first time ever. The place was a ruin and yet it was still quite intimidating, and the man before her was also intimidating. Cregard Stark was not a tall man, of average height, but carved in muscle and with a face like ice. His voice seemed like ice when he spoke. “So Lady Sansa, daughter of Eddard and Catelyn, you have come to speak terms with me have you? Or have you come to throw yourself at my feet and grovel?”

There was some angry muttering from the Valemen who had come with her, but she ignored them and said. “I have come to speak with you my lord. We are Starks and are kin, and as such we should not be fighting. We are not in the time of the She Wolves of Winterfell, and as such there is no reason for us to try and ruin one another. I have come to propose an alliance.”

“Why should Lord Cregard take alliance with a woman who has slept with a Lannister and then another southern man? There are rumours that you, yourself spread your legs for the man who committed the Valemen to this invasion. How do we know that we can trust such a slut as you?” Torrhen Stark, Cregard’s brother asked.

There was some muttering and Maege Mormont herself said. “Careful Torrhen that is Lord Eddard’s daughter you are speaking to. You will watch your tongue.”

Sansa looked at Lord Cregard himself and his expression was neutral, his brother’s face though was alive with anger and anticipation. “And pray tell me Lady Maege, why I should remain so silent? Sansa Stark is the daughter of a usurper, the descendant of an usurper and someone who was a traitor to her own family in King’s Landing. Her mere presence in King’s Landing allowed the Lannisters to have a claim on Winterfell, putting the north in danger. Really she was just a burden to her own brother by her continued presence.”

There are some very angry mutterings coming from the Valemen with her now, as there are from some of the northern lords present, Lord Howland a man whom was her father’s good friend speaks then his tone angry. “Think on what you are saying Lord Torrhen. That is a person’s life you are so casually dismissing. How would you feel if it were your own sister stuck in that situation would you wish for her to end her own life to be less of a nuisance to you?”

Some positive murmuring comes from this and before Torrhen can respond, Lord Cregard is speaking. “Enough, we shall not debate the merits or demerits of what is being spoken of in the past. What are the terms of your alliance my lady?”

Sansa swallows then and says. “You are now the confirmed Lord of Winterfell by royal decree my lord, but there are still those who would love a chance to oppose you, after all your own family has not been in the north for nearly a hundred years now, and as such could be considered foreigners to most. That you have aided in riding my home of the Boltons and Stannis is something that I thank you for. However, I propose that a marriage between the two of us could help further cement your hold on Winterfell and the north, as many here know me for my father’s daughter and as such that would hold sway with the mountain clans as well as some of the more distinct lords such as the Mormonts, whom Lady Maege represents. Furthermore a marriage between us two, would bring the lords of the Vale and the Riverlords to aid in the conflict brewing at the Wall.”

There is even more murmuring at this and Torrhen Stark shouts then. “You cannot be serious. Allowing my brother the saviour of the north to wed you, a harlot? No that is beyond the realms of reason.”

Lord Howland once more speaks. “Such a marriage makes sense, it brings together the two rival claims and unites them as one. It would be perfect.”

“For you perhaps frog eater, for those of us who have waited to see the north once more it would not.” Torrhen Stark says.

Cregard Stark speaks then and his voice is like thunder. “Silence!” the lords all go quiet and then he speaks once more. “We are not southerners to bicker about alliances and the past. The past is the past. Lady Sansa is alive and she is here, not in the south. And so I shall wed you Lady Sansa, and bring your armies to aid in the struggles at the wall.”

Sansa nods, and so four days later they are wed in front of the godswood in Moat Cailin and they begin to get to know one another and to begin the journey back north.


	14. Exiled Wolf

**Seventh  Month of 302 A.C. Castle Black**

**Lord Cregard Stark.**

Cregard did have to admit that he was somewhat puzzled by his wife. She seemed to enjoy all the things southern ladies, or perhaps all ladies enjoyed be it sewing or singing, but at the same time she was not completely vacuous as Cregard had been led to believe. She could hold a conversation and was somewhat cleverer than most of the people he had known in his life, she knew what sort of things made some of his bannermen tick better than he did and he had served on campaign with them. She knew how to draw smiles from them and knew how to flatter them. But at the same time whilst this was all there, he sensed that there was a distinct hardness to her as well, something that his brother could not see through his bias, and yet his sister Serena could. Something was there that had allowed her to survive through all she had been through. That she was not yet pregnant, not with his or the Arryn boy’s seed was something he was relieved about he did not wish to have doubts cast about his child’s paternity.

Right now though he had to deal with the men of the Night’s Watch and as such it was not a task he looked forward to. The Watch had been in a state of disunity when he had arrived, the lord Commander Jon Snow had disappeared beyond the wall some time ago, and had not returned, the red woman Melisandre had been holding sway over temporary commander Marsh, at least that was what Cregard thought the man’s name was. Cregard had disliked the red witch and as such had ordered her executed when he had arrived, performing the deed himself though his sword had somewhat broken afterward. Right now he had to deal with the steward and the new commander of the watch. “I am telling you my lord Stark that riding beyond the wall to look for the bastard is not worth your time. It is not worth anything more than more wasted men when the true threat is coming towards us.”

Cregard sighed, hiding his frustration. “Lord Commander Thorne, whilst this is all well and good. Need I remind you that it was I and not you who set order to the watch, and if I so chose I could have you executed and install someone more favourable to the position. Now you will tell me what happened precisely with Jon Snow.”

The lord commander grits his teeth and says. “I will not remind you Lord Stark that the Night’s Watch is beyond your command and as such cannot be controlled by you or anyone else. That was something Stannis Baratheon and Jon Snow failed to realise. Now as to the bastard, well, he was stabbed in the back by cowards rather than killed in a true fashion. Whilst he made some good moves as Lord Commander, he was a fool to not replace Marsh and those other idiots. Still once I returned from ranging, I saw to it that he was moved to the ice cages and his body kept under guard. The red whore removed his body from there and tried to have him burnt, and yet he was not dead. He moved when she touched him and he broke free from confinement. Where he has gone I do not know, nor do I care.”

Cregard nods and then says. “Well I would like some of your men to come with me and mine as we go beyond the wall. Jon Snow might no longer be counted as a brother of the watch but he is still a northmen and a Stark, in blood if not in name and as such I mean to bring him back to Winterfell.”

“Absolutely not.” The lord commander says. “I will not waste valuable men going on a wild goose chase for some bastard when the true threat comes this way.”

“And your men know these woods better than anyone par the wildlings. And yet the wildlings are needed to hold parts of the north so as to ensure that they do not go elsewhere.” Cregard argues.

“Take some of those scum with you then. The less of them that are here the better it will be for all of us. Sooner or later they will need to die to pacify that which comes.” Thorne said with a strange look in his eye.

Cregard sighs and says. “If you will not relent then very well I shall. But I remind you that the north remembers Thorne. And when the time comes your time will come as well.” With that he stands and walks out of the room and back to his own room where his brother and sister are waiting for him.

“What did Thorne have to say?” Serena asks. “Will he aid us?”

“No,” Cregard said allowing his frustration to begin to show. “He will do no such thing. And he insists we take the wildlings. I do not know whether the northern lords will accept having them with us. Sooner or later we shall need to work together, but there was so much loss during the carnage that followed Snow’s stabbing I am not sure what is going on there.”

His sister nodded and then said. “You will have to try brother. We cannot allow the wildlings back across the wall not now. They will demand something or the other when all is said and done and as such we must uphold our word to them and make sure the northern lords know what to expect.”

Cregard nods and then Torrhen speaks. “We must needs march sooner or later. We cannot keep stalling brother. The men grow impatient, they want blood and there is still a threat out there for them to realistically deal with. That they can handle all this talk of white walkers and first people is something they do not understand.”

“And what have you learnt of this threat that the wall and the north are facing brother? Is it real?” Cregard asks.

“Oh it is indeed a very real threat, the dead rising from their graves and causing havoc, fire and flame and dragon glass seem to be the things to stop them. And the white walkers, by the gods are they real as well. But none seem to know what they want, nor what they are coming for, or why they are doing it now.” His brother responded.

They all knew of the stories that had been told to them from the brothers of the watch, but it had taken a lot to convince them. Cregard sighed once more and asked. “And what of these first people that Thorne and his fellow brothers seem so content to mention?”

“As to that I do not know brother. There is no mention of them with the records of white walkers and there is no mention of them elsewhere, apart from a mention of the First Men. But we all know whom they were.”  His brother responded.

Cregard sighed and then said. “Very well then. We shall be marching out soon enough as it is. I suppose I shall have to ask Lady Selyse about this then seeing as it was her men who brought it up in the first place.” With that he gets up and leaves.

 


	15. Lost

**12 th Month of 302 A.C Somewhere beyond the Wall**

**Jon Snow**

It was dark, it was always dark, and the sun did not shine here anymore. Jon and Ghost had quickly learnt how to deal with this and as such there were things they did during the long nights when daylight would indicate daytime, to keep the cold and the pain away and at bay. As such he spent most of his time inside of Ghost wiling away the hours until he could come to and could move from where he was. Right now he had just come back from Ghost, and what he had seen scared and terrified him in equal measure. Nothing he had seen since he had come north of the wall had terrified him as much as what he had just seen there.

Darkness had been his constant companion since his men had betrayed him. He could not understand why they had done it, he had been doing the Watch a huge thing by doing the things he had been doing. With the others a clear threat, they could not afford to have more people north of the wall creating havoc and turning into wights and thralls. Of course he realised that he had been a bit too short sighted or too narrow minded in not thinking about how his actions would look to his men, he had alienated himself from those who could have been his allies and had paid for it with the wounds and the scars. He did not remember much of what had happened after he had been stabbed, only screaming and chaos and cold, the cold that came with death. But he had not died, and cold fingers had touched him and muttered words, and a three eyed raven had come into his dreams and spoken of darkness and his true destiny, but he did not understand. Then Melisandre had tried to do something to him and he had been shocked awake and had fled as fast as he could in the dead of night whilst the red woman slept.

Cold, dark, alone, these were all things Jon had come to accept as his fate during this maddening journey north of the wall. No wildlings were here in this part of the north, though he could’ve sworn he had seen a party led by a man known only as the Weeper once or twice, but whether that had been his own eyes playing up or not he knew not. And then there were the screams he kept hearing, what they were, he knew they were definitely not human for no human could ever make such a terrifying and maniacal noise as that. There was the beating of ground and something in the sky, what it was he knew not, and sometimes he worried that he was going mad.

Somewhere in the dark a wolf howled and Jon shuddered, it was not Ghost’s howl but the howl of something long dead, something that should’ve remained long dead. But the dead were coming back to life, and the dreaded nights were coming now, his visions and dreams had shown him that. Brandon the Builder would be horrified to see what his institution had become, the watch was broken without purpose and now he did not know what to do. He knew he would have to return to set the watch to rights as was his duty as Lord Commander of the Watch, but he did not know if he had the stomach to do such a thing anymore. After all they had tried to kill him, perhaps he should’ve taken Stannis’s offer.

In the midst of his dark thoughts, the snow began to creak, but that was not right, snow did not rumble, nor did it glitter and sliver with orange and yellow. That was a fire, something was going on, and some part of Jon knew he should just keep trudging on, but some other part of him knew that whatever these things were with the fire it could somehow be important and so he walked as quietly as he could to the edge of the snow cover and looked over the hill. Down at the foot were seven very strange and hairy people. They were very short and though their voices were guttural, Jon could swear they were speaking in a tongue he could understand. The one who seemed to be the leader was speaking fiercely and loudly. “They have gone past what we agreed upon. I had always thought Garth was too big for his boots. They need to be stopped.”

Another figure, this one who seemed to be yellow in the light spoke then. “Be patient Builder, we cannot go completely through with the plan just now. After all the others are not completely onside with the plan. Garth still holds some of them in his palm, even though it has been many years now since us all roamed the realms of men.”

The first figure spoke once more his voice gruff and dismissive. “I cannot abide this. What did we all give up our mortal lives for if not to prevent the white walkers from coming back once more? I had to kill my own grandson to ensure that they did not come back to power. And now Garth, who was the foremost amongst us in the old days consorts with them? No I cannot and will not allow it.”

The second figure spoke once more. “I understand your frustration I truly do. But we cannot act until we know the full extent of the man’s treachery. If he is still a man and has not become their ice king.”

A third figure spoke and this one’s voice was musical and feminine. “Soon enough we shall have our answers when the three eyed raven and his boy deal with the fire priestess. I still believe we should have done something to her, but alas I guess we shall have to wait and see.”

“It was necessary to let her go, she will be needed soon enough and once they have broken her, then we shall have our way with her.” The first voice said, sounding delighted.

Jon was mesmerised by what he was seeing and tried to get closer as quietly as possible when the snow crunched under his feet and the first voice turned round and Jon nearly fainted. “It would appear we have company.”


	16. Dragons

**Fourth Month of 303 A.C. Dragonstone**

**King Aegon VI Targaryen**

Things were moving smoothly in King’s Landing, the lords of Crackclaw point had done him fealty and had stopped being so belligerent, there was still some trouble in the Westerlands and the Stormlands but largely things were looking up. That there had been no word from the north was somewhat worrying but Aegon reasoned that with winter firmly here things would be quite slow and for some time. And then a dragon had come, a white one, pale as snow had come and arrived looking for something, the mere sight of the dragon had been something that Aegon had been curious about for some time and when he had managed to bond with the dragon he had felt renewed as if his identity had been confirmed.

Of course the dragon had given way to the arrival of Daenerys Targaryen his aunt and her army of unsullied and sellswords. And Aegon had flown to meet her, needless to say she was not best pleased. “I tell you once again my lady, I did not steal your dragon. I merely gave him a home. And as such I can tell you he has become better trained than he was before I bonded with him.”

His aunt was a short woman but she had fire alright. “I do not believe you, why would she leave for you? I am her mother and as such will do as I believe right for her. And besides I do not understand how you can be who you say you are, considering the whole world saw your corpse laid at the feet of the usurper.”

Aegon sighs once more an old rehash of the same conversation. “My lady, I tell you, that I am who I say I am. You have spoken with both Lord Varys and Lord Jon Connington, and they have no reason to lie to you. I tell you once more that we are better united than divided. That is what our enemies would want, and as such we must be strong and united to ensure that our enemies do not get that chance.”

“And I say once more, that Lord Connington was in love with your father, and of course he would wish to believe you are who he says you are. As for Lord Varys, well the man left myself and my brother to wander the free cities as beggars for many years. Why would he do that and not alert us to your continued survival?” his aunt questioned.

Aegon shifts somewhat uncomfortably, he has never truly doubted that he was who everyone told him he was, but his aunt does present a reasonable line of argument, still he will not give up everything that he has desired simply for her to sit her bony arse on the throne. “My lady, I assure you that whatever questions you have, are easily answered by the fact that I have bonded with one of three dragons left in the world. I do not think such a thing would be possible if I were not who I say I am. Now we can continue to discuss this or we can discuss what to do with the men that you have brought.”

His aunt is silent a moment and then says. “There is nothing to discuss, these men have come to aid me in taking what is rightfully mine. I will not have anyone stand in my way.”

Aegon sighs once more and asks. “So you will insist on more fighting, when I have already reclaimed the Iron Throne for our family. I am offering you the chance to rule alongside me, not as a queen consort but as co rulers. A chance for us to right the wrongs our predecessors have committed and something that can bring the kingdoms together as they never have been since King Aegon the fifth died.”

His aunt pauses for a moment and then asks. “And what would you have me do? There are many here who want to see me on the throne, who whisper that you are a false king a puppet with no real agenda. There is trouble in the Westerlands and the Stormlands, and nothing is being done.”

Aegon looks at his aunt then and says. “Then ally with me, and we can begin to repair Westeros and we can set it to rights. We can achieve the vision our ancestor had all those years ago when he set out from this very island to conquer Westeros. Ally with me and we can ensure that our dynasty continues and that nothing will happen as it did in the past. We can bring in a new glorious future for Westeros and our dynasty.”

His aunt looks at him for a long moment, and there Aegon can see the longing in her eyes, the desperate need for something, anything other than the painful loneliness that can so often accompany them. He holds his breath waiting for her to speak and when she does, he feels something akin to relief. “Very well, I shall ally with you. But on two conditions, we are wed and that we rule as co monarchs. Furthermore, that when the kingdoms are secure we discuss making sure that certain reforms are made to ensure that Westeros never again faces the troubles that it currently does.”

Aegon nods and says. “I am very happy to agree to such terms my lady. And now I believe we should inform all else.” Later that month they are wed and they are both crowned by the High Septon, a decree issued stating that they are ruling as co monarchs and Aegon begins to settle into married life, though there are things about his wife that worry him, and he wonders if perhaps she is becoming like her father. He hopes not, he likes her somewhat, and when they fly off to deal with the problems remaining in their realm a raven comes from the north.


	17. Cold

**Eighth Month of 303 A.C. Somewhere beyond the wall**

**Lord Cregard Stark**

The cold was all consuming, the days were short- could they even be called days anymore?- the darkness came and stayed for long periods of time. Cregard and his men were growing more and wearier, there was no sign of life for miles around, and the wildlings who had come with them had either died of starvation or had disappeared. Those that had died whilst still with the party had been burnt to prevent them coming back as wights, but those who had gone off with some of the other wildlings under Tormund Giantsbane or the wildling woman Val had disappeared and some had come back with the dead in their eyes and desperation in their hearts. He still suffered from nightmares from that night and all the nights since then, and it seemed tonight would be no different.

They were marching, pushing through the cold looking for something, anything that could give them hope against the death that was pushing towards them. The white walkers had not yet come through to attack them, but the wights, their thralls had done so on numerous occasions so they were clearly close by. But where was the question, and as Cregard thought on it, with torches drawn and dragonglass at the ready he wondered if perhaps he had been a fool to come north of the wall, even Jon Snow was not worth this trouble. Screams brought him back to the real world and so the dance began, they wheeled around in a wheel formation he and his men and as dozens of other battles happened around them, the wights pushed in and so the darkness came calling.

Biting cold was greeting them as they used their torches and the dragonglass to remove the wights swarming them, Cregard felt the bite more and more as the flames continued to be put to use and the wights continued to fall. He was not sure he knew precisely what was happening but still he kept ordering the flames lit and thrown. And he continued charging through the ranks as the wheel spun and spun, and still they kept coming. Where they came from he knew not, all he knew was that something needed to be done to stop them. He continued barking out orders and cutting the swathes down with a fire lit sword, but they continued coming something had to give and he feared that it would be he and his men.

Cold, and blood two things that do not go well together. Cregard has to do everything within his power to keep from screaming as he feels the cold begin to bite into him, and the push continues. Gods he is cold, and weary, but those are the things death leans on to push them all to the edge, he cannot fall now, not now. He continues the push and the fighting continues, the arrows are loosed, the flames continue to be fanned and destruction and screams echo throughout the night sky. More and more bodies begin to pile up some rise again others will never rise again and still they continue to fight and die, and live and die again.

More and more he feels the need to return home and curl up in a ball and just to give up, let death come to him instead of giving death a chance to for him to come to it. And then he remembers that he is a father now, his wife having given birth whilst he has been away and something inside of him wishes to keep pushing on to ensure that the dead never make it past where he is. And so he goes on and on pushing and crushing himself against the oncoming darkness, not really sure whether or not he has it in him to keep going. Still he goes and he goes and then he drops his sword and picks up a fallen torch and throws it, just as his men do and so and so forth.

He sees his sister fall down overweighed by the weight of the wights, and he screams a roar more than a scream and charges there burning those that come in his way. And by the gods, he nearly feints when he sees his sister there bruised and shaking but still alive, mercifully alive. They push forward and something takes over him after that he orders torches lit into a pyre and they burn the wights there and then, Cregard staring at the pyre as it progresses and feeling some sort of grim satisfaction when he hears the screams of the already dead dying once more. He orders his men and women to march further north, they are coming close to what he knows as the lands of always winter.

The fabled lands are a desolate place, filled with skulls mounted on poles, and remains of all kinds scattered around. Cregard wonders what exactly it is he is looking at but he does not want to dwell too long on it. He continues the march whilst some of his men fall and wither and die, and rise up again, a process that continues for a very long time, and some men disappear during the storms that come. The process is draining, and he wonders why he is doing this once more, but the crow said that Jon Snow would be here and so he continues pushing his men. He nearly breaks though when Serena falls ill and he orders a halt waiting for her to get better. He continues pushing himself though ordering scouting parties and the like, and then when he thinks nothing good can come from this, Serena’s fever breaks and they push on.

They come to a cave with skulls decorating the outside and strange creatures guarding it when the moon is at its highest point. And when they enter the cave they find all kinds of things there, children, wolves, giants, half men half animal concoctions, and in the middle of it all is a giant wierwood tree with a little boy in it, whispering the words of winter, and the deaths of thousands.


	18. Freak On A Leash

****

**Fifth Month of 305 A.C. King’s Landing**

**Queen Daenerys Targaryen**

“You mean to tell me that the royal treasury is so close to breaking that there is nothing more that can be done for the poor and those who have given themselves over to our judgement?” Dany asked incredulous. “That is frankly unacceptable, what has become of the taxes and the other assorted financial methods my husband employed to raise money for the crown?”

The master of coin spluttered. “Yes Your Grace. It would appear with this winter that things are not progressing as smoothly as we had first hoped. There is revenue coming in, but there is more debt than is frankly sustainable.”

Dany seethed. “And you suggest that raising taxes even higher would not be a prudent measure Lord Connington?”

The hand nodded. “Yes Your Grace. At present the lords of the realm manage to abide the return of yourself and the king, simply due to fear and the dragons. But there is not much more they can take when it comes to the financial strain on their persons. Winter is a hard thing, and it is not something that can be taken lightly.”

Sighing she ran a hand through her hair and asked. “So what do you suggest we do? Our revenues are not enough to guarantee a loan from the Iron Bank, after all we have just about managed to pay off the loans that the usurper managed to acquire. If we do not raise taxes inwardly we shall need to do so outwardly.”

The master of coin Strickland nodded. “That could be a wise move Your Grace. After all, the Essosi have been exploiting the chaos in Westeros for some time now to get better deals on their trade and such. Raising the taxes on them to what they were before the wars broke out could reinforce the message that Westeros and the Iron Throne is not weak but is growing in strength once more.”

Dany nodded and said. “See it done,” then turning to Varys she asks. “What news from my husband?”

The master of whispers speaks then. “Casterly Rock has been pacified Your Grace. Tyrion Lannister has been installed as Lord of the Rock and confirmed as Lord Paramount of the Westerlands. The treacherous Lannisters and their allies whom sided with Martyn Lannister have since been dealt with either through dragon fire or by execution. And as such the king writes that things are moving quite swiftly onwards. Tyrion Lannister has wed Helena Banefort thus securing more strength behind his new regime. The king also writes that he shall be moving towards the Stormlands soon enough.”

“And what of the situation in the Riverlands? Last we had been told things were settling into a normal routine for Emmon Frey and Genna Lannister, but with the release of Edmure Tully soon enough things will need to change.” Dany responds.

The master of whispers is silent for a moment and then says. “Emmon Frey is dead Your Grace, slain during the storming of Riverrun. It would appear that the lords of the riverlands, have finally decided to shake of the shackles of the Freys and are bringing themselves back into the fold. As such it should not be too much of an issue, not with Walder Frey dead and most of his house tearing themselves to pieces over the lordship of the twins.”

“Good.” Dany says. “Let them rot in the chaos and instability that their lord created. It is time that they realised that nothing can stop the rot that has settled in.”

The council meeting came to an end after that, and then Dany found herself back in her chambers, looking at her daughter, her and Aegon’s daughter, wondering. Their daughter, their Naerys was the most perfect person Daenerys had ever seen, and she dearly hoped that she would never know the struggles that both her parents had had to face. She hoped that soon enough the issues of the realm would be sorted out and things could become the glorious future both she and her husband dreamed of. Right now though that was all a long way away.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a cough at the door and then the Grand Maester entered the room. “Forgive me, my queen but there has been a raven from Winterfell that I thought you might wish to read.”

Dany takes the letter from the man and reads it and once she is done she looks at him and asks. “This raven, when did it arrive?”

The man is silent for a moment and then says. “Earlier this afternoon Your Grace. I had some difficulty getting through the snow but I came as soon as I could. Why do you ask?”

“Because it mentions events that have not been discussed in council. We have not heard word from the north for nearly a year now, and the raven comes bearing news both good and ill. Perhaps there is more that needs to be done to reinforce the loyalty of the north. After all there is much that needs to be done.”

The grand maester is silent a moment and then says. “It is possible that this raven got lost in the storms and the winds that often sweep such things of course during winters. After all this winter is said to be the longest in known memory, or rather it will be. And we all know how unpredictable the weather has been of late. Perhaps it would be best not to make too much of it.”

Dany considers this for a moment and then says. “I do not know whether or not that is the right way to think. After all the north is the most fragile region left right now, and they are also the only region that could break away and not face complete destruction after winter. Something must be done.” With that she dismisses the maester and continues to ponder what to do as well as what the dreams she has been having of a blue rose and a dying woman’s last request have to do with anything.


	19. Auld Alliance

****

**10 th Month of 305 A.C. A Cave**

**Jon Snow**

“I still do not understand why it has to be me, why do I have to give up everything so that the world of men might well live and continue breathing? Am I to have no say in what I want from this world?” Jon asked for what felt like the hundredth time, hating that he sounded like a child.

The tree that claimed to be his brother spoke. “Because your birth was prophesied millennia ago, when Valyria was just about being born and the last hero made their final stance against the darkness that threatened to engulf the world. Jon yours is the song of ice, and in order to ensure that the darkness never comes to light again, you must become the ice, you must become its king and lead the dangers back to the dark once more.”

“So this whole time, I have simply been guided through life as nothing more than a pawn of our ancestor and now your pawn? Do you know how aggravating that is for me Bran? I joined the Watch so I could forge my own way in life, and now I discover that someone else has always been pulling the strings. That is something that is very hard for me to accept.” Jon replied.

His brother looked at him for a moment and then said softly. “I did not wish to do it brother, but, some of the choices you made were something that no one man should make. And killing Melisandre was my way of making sure she never tried to turn you like she did Stannis. That was something I could not bear to face.”

“So you moulded and shaped certain things and made me do things I would never do? Where is the honour in that Bran? Father would not have done something like that neither would Robb. There is power in you, but I fear you are not exercising it well enough to truly deserve it brother.” Jon said.

His brother looked somewhat torn with grief at that but then his voice hardened and he did not sound like a little boy anymore. “There is no place for honour in this world we live in now Jon. If you have not realized that by now then perhaps you do deserve to rot and die. This is a tough world we live in, and for the darkness never to come to life, you must become the thing you were destined to become.”

“And what if I do not wish to become something that some dusty old cunt said I would be? What will you do then Bran? If you are even the little boy who used to climb up Winterfell’s walls and drive us all half to distraction with worry. What will you and your powers do if I walk out of this cave and never return?” Jon asks.

“You will not leave Jon. We both know you will not, if you had wanted to truly leave you would have left the minute you realised I was not what I once was. It is time you stopped acting a boy and became a man. Learn the truth of the destiny set before you and embrace it, otherwise the whole world will burn and smoulder in fire and ice.” The tree said.

Jon sighs and yells. “And what is this god’s damned destiny that you keep mentioning? The white walkers are back and they supposedly have no commander leading them, but are rather coming down fast and quick. The people you sent to bring me here told me as much, though they seemed to think I was someone I am not. But tell me what this whole crap you keep on mentioning is?”

“They are not being led that much is true, but once they were led. And as such they caused all kinds of chaos because the man who led them had turned from his true purpose. That man was beaten and broken his body and bones lie in ruins in Barrowlands, and as such I have done all I can to ensure they remain there. But as the darkness continues to grow and spread and as fire continues to grow and spread, perhaps the bones will not remain. That is why you must don his crown. That is why you must become a King, not the king on the throne, but the king. The only king that at the end of the day will matter should fire come calling.” The tree says.

“You mean the king that Old Nan used to speak of? The one who broke his vows and had his name cast from the records? Why would I want to become such a person when I can do more as a normal human to protect the people I care about and the world as a whole? I do believe this has all gone to your head Bran and that you are not thinking straight.” Jon responds.

His brother looks at him then and the vision begins to blur, and Jon wonders what is happening. He hears his brother’s voice as if from far away. “Ah but I am not the one who is miles away from where he should be am I now Jon? I am safe and sound, but you, you are in the midst of a very dangerous war. Become the king you were meant to be Jon, become the king and let us end this darkness and this struggle once and for all.”

Jon shakes awake and is startled to see a pale blue face looking down at him with eyes of blue, blue as ice staring at him as well. A crown dangles on the arm of the being, and as it extends towards Jon he is not sure what to do, nor what he truly wants to do. He goes to move but finds he cannot, he wants to scream but finds he cannot do that either. All he can do is accept the crown and begin the process that will change his life for many years to come. Jon Snow, in the cave of death is born again amidst the ice and the fire of the world. The true King of Winter.


	20. Sarcastrophe

**Sixth Month of 306 A.C. Somewhere beyond the wall.**

**Lord Cregard Stark.**

Blood, that was all that there was now. Blood and more blood, the screams of thousands dying and there was nothing more he could do for them. He just kept ploughing on, the discovery of a lot more dragonglass and dragon steel has aided them in the fighting but still there is a hard ask, and he senses that there is something more to the fighting of the wights and the white walkers that they are not aware of. No matter how hard he keeps pushing forward, they end up getting pushed backward, gods it is frustrating but still they continue fighting and pushing, flames are burning through and ice is pushing through and something will have to give.

Flames, come creeping through, dangerously close and the wights and the walkers continue pushing through regardless, something is definitely different about them. What it is he does not know, but it does seem as though they are no longer fighting as one entity but as something akin to the tensions and the danger that the tree crow claimed they would be. But by the gods the amount of bodies that are building up is something that is making him lose sleep and even now as the battle is raging is that he cannot continue going, but he forces himself to keep going. His sword continues slighting through the men and the enemy but something else keeps him going, he does not know what but still he pushes through.

Pushing through, darkness imprisoning them all around. The movements are becoming increasingly rare. Pushing through, screaming, roaring, doing all he can do to stay alive, and pushing himself to his very limits. His armour is dented, his body is cold, and his arms are freezing but still he pushes himself. He cannot go down not now, not ever, swinging like a mad man, what is left of the host that came through and what joined them, follow him through hell and back and still they are not able to break through. They keep pushing and pushing and go backwards and forwards constantly, doing more and more than they can realistically keep going, but still something inside of them is pushing them onward and so they follow that urge.

Ice is what he sees now, creeping and dangerous as always. The blue eyes of death encroach around and now he feels as though he is slipping, ice and fire that was what he had heard during the purging of the weeper and his men. But he had not known what to make of it, now he does as he surveys the damage being done. Men on fire charging through like thralls to the fire god that once survived in Essos. And now the men of ice are charging and battle is being raged and he knows not what is happening. All he knows is that he must continue fighting otherwise he is done, he will never get the chance to see his child and he will never know another day if he does not keep pushing through.

On it goes, darkness encroaching fighting against the light, something inside of him is dying but he keeps going because he knows to give up would be to seal the fate of humanity. On it goes, the struggle, the constant urge to keep going against all odds despite knowing that it would be better to give up and die. Years of fighting to remain alive have made it so that he does not know what it means to give up and so he pushes on struggling against the darkness that threatens them and all that they stand for. Fire and ice, dancing against one another, and something is breaking inside of him. He sees a direwolf and then another one and then another one, this final one pale white with albino eyes. Something about that seems right and wrong at the same time.

Despair that is what is filling his body at this moment, something akin to it at least, he wonders what would happen should the darkness remain. Death and despair and the north would be lost, that is what the voice inside of his head says. He pushes through the darkness in his mind to keep combating the fears in the dark in life, and as such he continues fighting and destroying the forces that mean to combat his life and that he has fought for. He continues fighting even as his men and his brothers in arms continued to fight and die and something grows wrong inside of him. He watches the dead rise and fall and nothing changes inside of him, the pressure continues to grow until his arms begin growing weak and he feels broken something inside of him wants to give up.

His horse gives up and he just about manages to escape before it falls and crushes him. He staggers up and finds that he is all alone now, the sky is dark but there are no men only him and some figure standing there with a crown and something akin to darkness around him. “Who are you?” he asks.

“I am the darkness, I am the light. I am the sun and I am the snow.” The voice responds. “I have come to aid you in your desire to rid the world of darkness Cregard Stark. I was a watcher on the wall, and I was the man who gave the keys to my kingdom to you.”

“Are you Jon Snow?” he asks hating how his voice shakes.

The figure laughs. “I have been called many things in my life. But yes I suppose you could say that. Now shall we begin removing these threats from our presence once and for all?”

“How? How will you do that?” Cregard asks.

“Why with a click of my fingers, a snap of my tongue. I am the wickedness in all and I am the one who will end what our ancestors started.” The figure responds. A snap is heard and when Cregard turns around light is beginning to reappear and the darkness is being removed.

He turns around and asks. “How did you do that?” but the figure is gone and the sun is beginning to shine through, just as he falls to his knees.


End file.
